


Jingle Bells

by paraboobizarre



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-16
Updated: 2007-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-09 04:08:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/451091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paraboobizarre/pseuds/paraboobizarre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the 24th of December and Bill gets up early...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jingle Bells

Bill was up at the crack of dawn. One look at the alarm clock on his bedside table told him it wasn't even six o'clock yet. He didn't need to check for the date, after all Bill had been counting down to this day for like...forever. The house was still all quiet, a minor miracle, considering their mother was usually in a state of barely suppressed hysterics so shortly before their relatives arrived. Kicking the covers to the foot of the bed, Bill traipsed over to the window, looking down into the backyard; a delighted little squeak escaped him as he saw the big fat globs of snow that fell steadily onto the already thickly covered lawn. The sky was an odd grayish blue, no clouds, no sun either. The window pane was so cold, it felt like the cool glass sucked his skin in as he touched it.

Bill chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes still following the odd shimmying of the snow flakes; it was still early enough, so perhaps he could...on the other hand, he knew the reaction he would get, when he woke up his brother this early. Putting his reservations aside, Bill hitched up his pajama pant and started for the door; he couldn't even remember a time when he had not worn this pajama in wintertime; granted, they looked horrible, a checkered plaid affair, the legs were already too short, hardly reaching down to his ankles; Bill had grown in height, the pants had only gotten wider and looser over the years. The elastic of the waistband was already beyond salvation, the pants hooping round his waist, threatening to just slip down at any moment; but Bill loved those pants; something he would never ever confess to anyone but these were his Christmas pj's. They were an integral part of holidays for him, just like the tree, the presents and the snow.

He crept on tip toes down the hallway, pointedly avoiding the fifth and seventh parquet slab so as not to awake the entire house by stepping in the loose, screeching slates. Gripping the door handle to Tom's room, he hesitated a moment, his eyes coming to rest on the poster taped to the door. Its edges were frayed and ripped, the colors faded already; Tom had been maybe thirteen when he put it up. It was a live shot of Steven Tyler, leaning heavily on Joe Perry, his ginormous mouth opened so wide, it seemed like he could have shoved the microphone in sideways, without ever even grazing the corners of his mouth; Tom had long since stopped listening to Aerosmith; The door squeaked in its hinges, Bill pushing it open slowly, not wanting to wake up his brother; or his mum and Gordon for that matter. Cold air rushed against his bare feet, making him shiver.

Tom had the nasty habit of sleeping with his windows cracked open, no matter what the season or the weather. Oh, the many times Bill had have to listen to his twin whining about the stiff air on the tour bus. He inched through the barely opened door, shutting it behind him carefully. The room was almost pitch black; the curtains were drawn closed but for a small gap that still let in the pale winter light from the outside; Tom's room, unlike his own, faced the front of the street and Bill heard a deep roaring of a snowblower being started somewhere down in the street below.

Somewhere hidden in the heap of blankets covering the bed, Tom stirred in his sleep. Hugging himself tightly, Bill crossed over to the bed with swift steps. The room was like a walk-in cooler, Bill shivering in his threadbare tee-shirt. He peeled off the many layers of blankets and duvets, his brother's familiar heat becoming stronger and more immediate with every blanket he pushed aside. Finally he reached into the warmth hidden under the pile of covers and crawled inside, inching across the awfully soft mattress; Tom had curled into a tiny ball, his hands tucked close to his body, knees drawn up to his chest, the duvet pulled up so high it nearly reached up over his forehead. “Hey...” Bill whispered, prodding his brother gently, moving closer to the warmth; Tom was like a furnace, the heat under the blankets almost suffocatingly intense. He received nothing but a grunt in reply, Tom's legs kicking out under the blanket, hitting Bill's shin.

Ignoring the kick, Bill reached for Tom's arm, gently untangling and lifting it, so he could mold himself against his twin's side; he let go of his brother's arm and it fell limply round his waist. Bill giggled quietly as Tom snorted out a breath, mumbling 'only five more minutes, okay...only five mo-aaaaah', the last word degenerating into a giant yawn.

He wriggled against Tom, his tee-shirt riding up in the process, the plaid parachute formerly known as his pajamas, slipping down over his hip and he could feel his twin's heat radiating against his back, wave after wave. Tom yawned once more, making odd chuggling sounds at the back of his throat, as he stretched and shifted, his movements slow and uncoordinated.

Bill closed his eyes and waited; Tom's brain and body needed some time to warm up to working speed; it was a little ritual that had to be adhered to, otherwise his twin was completely useless and grumpy for the next couple of hours. He felt Tom rub up against him from behind, the arm that had lain limp round his waist up to now, reaching up, running over his bare midriff. The air surrounding him smelled of washing powder and soap; their mum had put on fresh sheets the day they had arrived and Tom had obviously no yet managed to smother the entire room in a cloud of tobacco smoke.

“God...what time is it...” Tom's groggy whisper ran down his back, slipped between his shoulder blades.

“Round six.” Bill informed him quietly. He loved creeping into Tom's bed when his brother was still too drowsy to offer much resistance, or crack stupid jokes. Tough guy mode needed some time to kick in; the little time his twin needed to warm up, was heaven for Bill because he knew he could crawl in and cuddle up without having to deal with the sarcastic comments Tom would dump on him every once in a while.

Tom's chapped lips brushed along the nape of his neck while he murmured something under his breath, the hand running down his stomach, over his hips, gently cupping him moments later. He squeezed him softly through the smooth, worn down cotton of his pants and Bill gasped silently.

 “I didn't come here for sex, you perv...” He chuckled quietly, trying to bat Tom's hand away;

“As if, as if...” Tom's voice trailed off, his hand wriggling out of Bill's grasp, wandering up only to slip under the worn elastic of the pants moments later. Bill whined in a low voice, shivering despite the heat that enveloped him, shifting uneasily under his brother's ministrations. “Be a nice kitty-cat...” Tom purred in a low voice, his mouth latching onto the tattoo at Bill's neck, slowly stroking him, fingertips dancing up and down the soft shaft, Bill groaned softly, feeling himself grow harder steadily.

He rolled over to face Tom, making his brother's hand slip out of his pajamas in the process; Tom growled deep in his throat, his arm wrapping round again, this time cupping his behind, pulling him impossibly close. Bill felt nothing but bare, warm skin under his fingers, Tom's soapy scent wafting up into his nose, mixed with just the slightest hint of sweat to make it smell so incredibly and irresistibly Tom-like.

He prodded their noses together and looped around Tom, molding himself against his brother, humming contently. He liked the closeness, especially since he got so little of it. Tom grumbled something about touchy-feely but let himself he cuddled nonetheless, even returning a soft squeeze.

Soon enough though Tom's hands were wandering again, slipping down his pajamas again, his hands fanning out in a possessive cage over Bill's backside; the fingers flexed and Bill gasped as Tom's blunt fingernails caressed down the ticklish folds of flesh connecting his legs to his ass. It was an odd pleasure-pain mixture, little jolts of electricity shooting up his spine, descending down into his limbs, tingling through every nerve ending. He could feel Tom's erection rub up and down against his pajama pants as his brother pulled him closer, squashing Bill against him.

It must have been good if the way Tom was starting to pant was anything to go by. Bouts of moist heat washing down the side of Bill's neck as his brother's face nuzzled into his neck. Bill reached a hand down between their bodies, letting his brother press against his palm. Tom groaned softly, feeling the tips of Bill's fingers nudging the sac, the sound muffled by Bill's hair.

They started to rock against each other, Tom becoming more insistent and urgent with every passing minute and soon Bill found himself on his back, Tom worming between his legs, hitching up one of his brother's legs round his waist. Tom's lips crushed against his, devouring Bill's mouth with hungry kisses. Bill pulled away, the need to breathe momentarily taking over and Tom licked a steady line down the side of his neck. As good as it all felt, Tom moving on top of him, his twin's weight pressing him down into the soft mattress, Bill couldn't help but let his thoughts wander back to the door just down the hall. Their mum would be up soon; she never managed to sleep past six thirty, especially not on a Christmas day...

“You're miles away right now...” Tom's breathless whisper danced across the shell of his ear. Tom pulled his left leg under his body, effectively forcing Bill's almost up to his shoulder. Bill sighed, slightly annoyed. Tom liked that, having his legs draped almost over his shoulders; Bill didn't, he felt way too exposed like that.

“Mum's gonna be up soon...” His head rolled to the side and he gave Tom a quick peck on the cheek.  
“We should stop.”

“This won't take long anyways...” Tom ground down against him; the frazzled elastic of his pajama bottoms was whetting directly against the exposed tip and Tom grinding down on him like that was rather more painful than pleasurable right now. Bill hissed out a short breath, trying to wriggle out from under his brother. Tom stopped moving, propping himself up on his elbows and looking down on Bill, a confused look on his face.

“You don't want to?” He asked, a curious and slightly reproachful look on his face. Bill sighed lightly, unhooking his leg from over Tom's shoulder again, letting himself sink deeper into the bed.

“It's not that...” He turned his head a little sideways so he wouldn't have to look at Tom.  
“When do I not want to?” He added, a quiet chuckle lacing his voice at the words.

“True...” Tom reached down between them, tugging the pj's the rest of the way down, before he started to move slowly again.  
“Come on, Bill...” Tom groaned quietly, lowering his head into his brother's neck again. “We would hear mum long before she even comes down the hall.”

Bill shivered up into the warm body rubbing against him; Tom was whispering directly into his ear, kissing and sucking on his earlobe in between words; it was a cheap trick and Bill silently cursed himself; this kind of treatment had worked on him for as long as he could remember and Tom used this knowledge fully to his advantage.

“Oh God damn you...” He sighed softly, his hands trailing down Tom's back, squeezing his ass roughly and hearing Tom chuckle. “That's the spirit...” The heat under the blankets was next to unbearable by now, the sweat forming between their bodies, making them slide against each other easily. Bill arched off the bed, pushing against Tom; he felt his excitement spike as his brother's hand dug into hip, forcing Bill to move with him, a warm wetness brushing over his belly. Tom's ragged breathing laced with soft moans trickled past his ear and down the side of his neck.

“God, yes...” A constricting heat curled tighter and tighter in the pit of Bill's stomach and he knew he wouldn't last much longer if Tom kept rubbing against him at this pace. Through his blissed out haze, Bill thought he could hear a door being shut; his hand flew up to his brother's neck, in an attempt to still his movements.

“Ssh-ssh...Tom, did you hear that?” He tapped against his brother's shoulder blades urgently. Tom stopped, his face reappearing out of the mess of Bill's hair; he looked slightly dazed and confused, an impatient look on his face.

 “Bill, you just ima-” The toilet of the upstairs bathroom flushed, then a door opened and shut again and they could hear footsteps shuffle down the hallway, the loose parquet slabs creaking under the weight of the person walking.  
“Shit!” Tom shot up, an expression of panic on his face Bill hardly ever got to see.  
“Get under the blanket! Now!” The blanket was lifted and Tom nodded impatiently at his brother, motioning to Bill to slip under the covers.

The younger twin sighed despondently but eventually huddled under the blanket, curling himself into a tiny, unmoving ball. The blanket was pulled back in place; it grew dark around Bill again, a moist, suffocating heat enveloping him. Tom shifted uneasily next to him and seconds later Bill heard the familiar creaking of the door to his brother's room, his mum's voice muffled by the blanket.

“Hi Mum...erm, I mean good morning...” Even hidden under the heap of blankets, Bill could discern the artificial strain in his brother's voice. He felt a vicious smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. It would be so infinitely evil, if he...carefully he reached his arm out under the blanket; he couldn't see worth a damn under the blanket but he didn't need to either, he just reached for the center of the warmth and sure enough got a good handful of his twin's package only moments later.

He squeezed softly, feeling Tom's legs twitch, hearing the high-pitched hiccuping noise above the blanket, as his twin desperately tried to conceal the little yelp escaping him at the unexpected touch with a less conspicuous noise. Then he heard their mother's still vaguely tired voice, deep and muffled by the blankets.

 “Tom you okay? You look...” Bill let his hand wander across Tom's lap, his left reaching between his brother's thighs, running up and down the soft skin on the insides, feeling the delicious quaking of the muscles under his fingertips. He heard Tom's frantic garbling somewhere above him and felt him shifting uneasily on the bed as Tom tried to get away from him. He stilled for a moment as he heard his own name being mentioned, straining to hear what they talked about. His brother's thighs closed around his hand, trapping him in place, squeezing him with an almost painful intensity. Then a door shut, light invading the dark warmth moments later when Tom lifted the blanket to stare down at Bill, hands still clamped between his thighs, trying hard not to crack up.

“Have you completely lost your fucking mind?” Tom sounded more furious than Bill thought he would. The legs unclamped around him, his brother's hand reaching down, grasping Bill's shoulder and pulling him up over the blanket; Bill shivered when the cold air hit his back. He laughed quietly, stretching out on the bed and relishing the cool air that rushed into his lungs.

“You grope me when mum's in the room?” Tom slugged him into the shoulder.  
“Why don't you just mount me while we stand around the Christmas tree, singing Jingle Bells?!”

They shared a short look and then both boys cracked up at the same time.

“Jingle? Bells?” Bill shook his head lightly, his hand under the blankets reaching over to his brother's lap again, briefly nudging the soft sac; Tom slapped his hand away, grumbling under his breath as Bill started humming the obnoxious Christmas song softly, his voice cracking under the barely suppressed laughter.

“Stop it!” Tom shoved him again, slouching deeper into the bed again, pulling the covers up over his shoulders.

“What did Mum say?” Bill asked, rolling on his side, facing his brother, tucking one of Tom's many pillows under his head. “Someone said my name...” He still felt tingly all over, it was like Tom had left track marks all over his body, like he was still on top of him.

“She asked me to wake you up at around seven...she needs help with the preparations.” Tom's hand emerged from under the blanket, close to Bill's face, his thumb brushing over his lower lip. He looked at him, his forehead wrinkling up in contemplation.  
“No good morning sex...”

Tom pouted, his lower lip jutting out, looking every bit like a baby and Bill couldn't help but snicker at his brother's obvious frustration. He let his fingers march over the mattress over to Tom's side of the bed. Tom flinched as soft fingertips brushed down his stomach to the soft thatch and he watched Bill's face fall as soon as his fingers had reached their destination.

“You're not hard anymore?!” Bill gave his brother an accusatory look. His hands were slapped away and Tom started to peel himself out of his cocoon of blankets and duvets.

“I'm going to take a shower.” He declared, reaching for his boxers draped over the back of a chair. Bill puffed out a breath, flopping back on the bed, watching Tom bustle around the room, growing more and more frustrated by the second. The curtains were drawn to the side and surprisingly brilliant light flooded the room.

“I'm hard...” Bill looked at his brother pleadingly. No response.  
“Tooomi...I'm horny!” Bill full out whined, patting the empty spot next to him. “Come back!” Tom shook his head vigorously as he made for the door.

“Too risky...go jack off!” The door opened and Tom shuffled down the hallway. Bill groaned quietly, his hand sliding down his chest to his erection still straining almost painfully against his belly. He sighed softly as he gripped the hard flesh and started jerking himself roughly. A sideways glance at Tom's alarm clock told him he had a good fifteen minutes before he was supposed to get up. He would be done way earlier than that...

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at [ParabooBizarre @ Livejournal.com](http://paraboobizarre.livejournal.com/)


End file.
